


Here, Kitty, Kitty

by NowhereAtAll



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Silly, nonsense for nonsense's sake
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3676620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NowhereAtAll/pseuds/NowhereAtAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen gives the Inquisitor a kitten, because of course he does. Because reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which the Inquisitor Names a Kitten

**Author's Note:**

> Just a drabble. I will be adding additional drabbles featuring other advisers and companions on occasion.

The Inquisitor sat at her desk, her half-eaten breakfast pushed aside and reports spread out in front of her. She hummed to herself as she read a merchant contract, then Josephine's and Ser Morris’ notes.

She was so engrossed, she missed a knock at the door of her apartments -- not hard to do, as the door was a floor below -- only realizing someone had entered when he cleared his throat. Her first thought was her staff, leaning against the wall beside her. She had been jumpy since the assassination attempt on Bull. She reached out for it, even as she looked up.

Cullen stood at the top of the stairs, cradling a wicker basket against his broad chest.

She relaxed and looked down at her paperwork to hide her blush. She found herself seeking him out often and once missed Leliana's entire report while staring at him. It was embarrassing, but she had a crush on her commander.

"Commander, I'm pleased to see you. Can I help you with something?" She desperately tried to remember if she had brushed her hair that morning.

"No. I mean yes." The tips of his ears were pink. "I ... I brought you something." He gestured to the basket. It was small, and the lid jumped as something inside moved.

"You brought me a present?" She schooled her expression, hoping her delight wasn't obvious.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I hadn't thought of it that way. I suppose so." He crossed the room and sat the basket on her desk. The lid jumped again.

"It doesn't bite, does it?"

"No. Well, it shouldn't."

_That_ was promising. She lifted the lid to reveal a baleful pair of golden eyes glaring at her. She lifted the tiny creature. It was small enough to fit in her palm, white and exceedingly fluffy. It also was hissing for all it was worth, hackles raised. "A kitten?"

"Um ... you told Leliana that you'd wanted a pet of your own as a child. You mentioned that you would have liked a kitten, but your clan only had mabari."

She blinked, trying to remember the conversation. It had been weeks ago. He had remembered?

"I'm sorry, Inquisitor. I'll take him to the kitchens. They can always use another ratter." He reached for the kitten, which had arched his back and spat.

"Don't you dare!" She smacked the commander's hand. "He looks like a little cloud with feet!" She picked the kitten up and cooed at it. "Who is a fluffy little white cloud, hmm? Such a pretty kitty!"

He shifted. “You like him?”

“I adore him. I could just kiss you!”

Cullen turned brick red. “I don’t think that would be appropriate … “

“I was talking to the kitten.”

“Of course. I am pleased you like it, my lady.”

The kitten had calmed down and batted at the quill she had dropped when he entered the room. “Very much. Thank you, Commander. It was thoughtful of you to think of me.” She ran a finger over the top of the kitten’s head, and it pushed its head under her hand, closing its eyes and purring.

“Of course, Inquisitor.”

The kitten yawned, showing off a pink mouthful of tiny fangs.

“I think I will name him Fen’Harel.”

Cullen raised his eyebrows. “You’re naming your kitten after the Dread Wolf?”

"I didn't know you were familiar with our myths, Commander."

He crossed his arms. "Yes, well, it seemed, ah ... I thought I ought to know about your ... I thought I ought to know more about the Dalish. But you were saying, my lady?"

“Yes, look at his cute little fangs. Fen'Harel is perfect.”

He chuckled. “Quite fearsome, my lady. Fen’Harel it is.”

She cuddled the kitten against her chest. “Aren’t you cute?” She looked up at her commander. “The kitten, Commander.”

He nodded. “Of course, Inquisitor. I never thought otherwise.”

* * *

 

It only took her two days to teach Fennie to perch on her shoulder as she went about her duties at Skyhold. The castle’s inhabitants were becoming used to seeing the Inquisitor with a kitten napping on her shoulder.

The Inquisitor hurried through the atrium, Fennie balanced on a shoulder, intent on a conference with Leliana in the rookery.

“Inquisitor, I see that Commander Cullen gave you a kitten,” Solas said. He put down a book and looked at the kitten with interest.

She blushed. “Yes, well, I mentioned wanting one as a child and … and he remembered.”

Solas reached out, but the kitten hissed at him, claws digging into her shoulder, and she flinched.

She frowned. “I’m sorry, Solas, Fennie is usually very friendly.”

Solas shrugged and stepped back, putting distance between himself and the kitten. “Cats don’t like me. His name is Fennie?”

“It’s short for Fen’Harel.”

Solas choked. “You named your kitten after our trickster god?”

“Well … yes.”

“It’s a cat, not even a canine!”

“Yes, but cats are clever and solitary, just like Fen’Harel. Also, he’s got cute little fangs.”

“Cute … little … fangs … ?” Solas pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please excuse me, Inquisitor, but I just thought of something that requires my attention. By your leave?”

“Of course.” Solas bowed and left for the great hall.

As soon as he was out of sight, Fennie settled back down on her shoulder. “That’s odd.” She rubbed Fennie under his chin. “Behave yourself when we see Leliana. No more begging for treats, you naughty kitty.”

The kitten purred.


	2. In Which the Inquisitor Misplaces a Kitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor can't find her kitten and finds it frustrating while Varric finds it funny.

“Here, kitty, kitty.” The Inquisitor crawled out from under her bed and planted her hands on her hips. “Where has that cat gone?” 

Fennie wasn’t in his favorite place to nap -- the middle of her bed -- or in his second favorite place to nap -- Sera’s window seat. He wasn’t begging scraps in the kitchen or torturing the ravens in the rookery. 

She was out of ideas. 

Ellana took the stairs down to the great hall, chewing on her lower lip and worrying. This was ridiculous. She was the Inquisitor, she had all of southern Thedas to save and she was panicking because she couldn’t find one rotten kitten. 

She stalked toward the massive front doors, scowling. She didn’t want to leave for the blasted Western Approach without saying good-bye to her cat. By all the Creators, she was a silly girl.

Varric raised his eyebrows as she stormed past him. “Something wrong, Your Inquisitorialness?”

She hesitated.

“I only ask to know whether I should hide behind something,” he added. 

She crossed her arms. “You’ve never hidden behind anything in your life.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that if I were you. But we were talking about you … ” That was Varric; if you even hinted about wanting to know anything about his personal life, he ran the other way. 

She sighed. “It’s foolish.”

“Try me.”

“Well … we’re leaving within the hour and … I can’t find Fen’Harel.”

To Varric’s credit, while his eyes widened, his mouth didn’t so much as twitch. “You can’t find your cat.”

“If you so much as breathe a word to anyone … ” Ellana shook a fist.

He laughed. “You’ll do what? Shoot a fireball at me?”

He shoulders sagged. “I will be deeply embarrassed.” 

“Consider it forgotten. Unless you want to know where that walking hairball is. I saw it not ten minutes ago.”

“Varric!” 

He smirked. “It’s in Curly’s office.” 

“Thanks, Varric.” 

As she turned away, he added, “I’d hurry, the way Curly was cursing.” 

There were three quills, an ink pot, two bottles -- one broken -- and dozens of papers on the floor around the Commander’s desk. 

Fennie sprawled across a pile of reports, his eyes half-closed in bliss, as Cullen scratched between his ears. One hand occupied with the cat, he wrote with the other, a frown creasing his brows. Fennie’s purring and the scratching of Cullen’s quill were the only sounds in the room.

She knocked on the doorframe, and Cullen looked up. 

“Inquisitor, I thought you’d be readying yourself for your expedition,” he said. 

“I, ah … I came to say good-bye.” 

“To say good-bye?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s unusual, but .. good-bye, Inquisitor. Maker be with you.” 

“ … I meant the cat, Commander.” 

“Oh. Of course. Please excuse.” He blushed. It never failed to amuse her he could be so awkward around her, yet commanding and confident with the soldiers. It wasn’t as if the templars and Inquisition didn’t have women among their ranks. 

She scooped Fennie up and cuddled him. He batted at a lock of her hair as she cooed at him. 

Cullen had gone back to writing his report and trying to ignore the Inquisitor baby-talking to her cat. 

After a few moments -- and a peek to make sure Cullen was once again absorbed in his work -- she kissed Fennie’s pink little nose and whispered good-bye. 

She was halfway to the door when she stopped. “Commander?”

“Yes, Inquisitor?”

“Would you … watch after Fen’Harel for me?”

There was a long pause. “If it pleases you, Inquisitor.”

“Commander?” She stopped in the doorway, Fennie draped over her shoulder, his tail tickling her nose. 

“Yes?”

“Good-bye.” 

* * *

She was hyper-aware of Cullen walking next to her -- the space between their bodies, so small and so infinite at the same time, the way the candlelight played over his profile and the faintest scent of mint that clung to his hair. She concentrated on breathing deeply and slowly and trying to keep her expression under control. If the commander figured out that she was infatuated with him … well, it didn’t bear thinking about. 

If she didn’t know the commander had no more magic than your garden-variety nug, she would swear he’d laid an enchantment on her. It was a ridiculous thought -- not only was he an ex-templar and templars smothered magic, but the idea of the commander, of all people, casting a such an enchantment was preposterous.

She stifled a yawn.She hadn’t had breakfast yet, but Leliana had had news that wouldn’t wait even for breakfast.

“It is early,” Cullen said. He rolled his shoulders. “Would you mind having breakfast with me?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “If you haven’t something else needing your attention, of course.”  

If she had a thousand things waiting for her, she wouldn’t turn down a meal with Cullen. “I would like that … Cullen.” 

He smiled, and her stomach did a flip-flop. When he did that, she had to remind herself to breathe. 

She spotted something on his tabard. “What’s this?” She plucked a long white hair from his clothing and held it up for inspection. “Fennie?” She couldn’t quite hide her grin. 

“That accursed cat follows me everywhere,” he grumbled.

“He follows you because you pet him … and feed him.”

“You did ask me to take care of him while you are away from Skyhold,” he said. He sat at one of the tables lining the walls of the great hall. 

“Yes, I did.” She sat beside him, furiously calculating the distance between them -- it couldn’t be too much or too little. Either would send the wrong message.  “I didn’t ask you to feed him table scraps.”

“I do not!” A blush crept across his cheeks. 

She ducked her head to hide her smile. 

Despite the throngs of people, a serving maid bustled over to them quickly, beaming at Cullen, who promptly looked anywhere but at her. At least Ellana wasn’t the only one enchanted by the commander. 

“Good morning, Commander,” the maid said. “Would you like your usual breakfast?”

“Yes, thank you.” Cullen’s expression was resigned, even stoic. The poor man was drowning in female attention. 

“Inquisitor?” the girl asked. 

“Whatever the commander is having will be fine, thank you.”

Ellana nearly choked on her laughter as the girl walked away -- put not without a glance over her shoulder at Cullen. 

“Maker’s breath!”

“How many of the serving girls have unrequited crushes on you, Commander?”

“Too many.” He sighed. “They’re always looking for excuses to sweep or tidy up my office, and they move things.”

“Tragic. I’ll have to remember that, while I’m fighting off hordes of Red Templars, you are beset with serving girls.”

He turned brick red and was still sputtering when the girl returned with their plates. 

“Here you go, Commander, Your Worship.” The girl smiled as she set the heavy plates before them, and Ellana had to admire her positive attitude and how she handled the heavy dishes without complaint. “Just the way you like, Commander. And I remembered the extra sausages for the kitty.” 

Ellana howled with laughter while Cullen buried his face in his hands and the serving girl stared in bemusement. 

* * *

The Inquisitor woke up flat on her face, her muscles sore from sleeping in a bed to which she was unaccustomed. She propped herself up on her elbows and shivered as the blankets slid from her bare shoulders. A cool mountain breeze wafted through the open Orlesian doors, accompanied by bird song. 

Ellana pulled the pillows over her head to muffle the noise, but she could still hear trills of song. She sat up and tossed the pillow at the doors, and it flew through them and onto the balcony … she hoped. She didn’t want to explain why one of her pillows ended up in the courtyard. 

A brush stroke of gold on the horizon indicated the sun would rise soon. Grumbling to herself, she rolled over. 

Cullen was asleep -- a relief, because his night terrors didn’t frighten her, but they did worry her deeply. Dying embers of last night’s fire picked out the golden highlights in his hair, which curled around his ears and stuck up in a cowlick on the crown of his head. He had kicked most of the blankets off in the night -- had he been tormented by dreams and she hadn’t awakened? -- and only a sheet slung over his hips preserved his modesty. 

Fennie was cuddled against his chest, head tucked under Cullen’s chin, shadowed with stubble. Cullen had an arm wrapped around the kitten, holding it to his chest like a teddy bear.

Wrapping her robe around herself and smiling like a fool, Ellana settled herself behind her desk to make a dent in the reams of paperwork the Inquisition produced daily. She didn’t want to disturb the two of them. 

As she dipped her quill in the ink pot, she wished there was some way to preserve this scene so she could look back on it when she needed to lift her spirits. 

She reviewed the reports on her desk with great contentment as the sun rose, the man and cat drowsing in her bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These won't be in chronological order. Each chapter from here on out will feature another companion or adviser.


End file.
